


I'm All Abloom (Just for You)

by wrothmothking



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrothmothking/pseuds/wrothmothking
Summary: They're alive, they're together, but a blooming secret could change that.
Relationships: Hidan/Kakuzu (Naruto)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 98
Collections: Exchange no Jutsu 2020





	I'm All Abloom (Just for You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zombie_honeymoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombie_honeymoon/gifts).



“Keep. _Still._ ”

The snarl rumbles through his bones, sends tingles tickling up his spine, but Hidan still squirms. The wire lacing his neck and body had been a smidge uncomfortable. The _tentacles_ forcing his insides into position as other threads reattach his limbs is _fucking_. _Weird_.

Kakuzu lifts him and slams him back onto the mattress, sweet pain distracting him from the miser's ministrations for a precious minute.

The extent of their injuries has led to the impossible: Kakuzu forking over hard-earned cash for them to spend their recovery in luxury. Feeling generous after being dug up and put back together, Hidan gives him the point despite the hot springs being the only viable shelter close to where they'd fought. Piecing him together at the gravesite would've been out of the question.

“Hey, Kakuzu! Hey, man, that's a sensitive area! Kakuzu!”

His partner ignores him, focused on his task. Unaware his work is straying dangerously close to Hidan's _dick_.

A wonderful thing, in another circumstance. But Kakuzu's been moodier than usual since fetching him, and Hidan would prefer for his chest cavity not to be on display when their dinner arrives. Leads to lousy service and a dozen dropped bodies―it'd be the least of what Lord Jashin deserves, but alas, the Konoha dogs are sniffing nearby. He'll be sure to triple that number at the next opportunity.

Kakuzu sews him up.

Hidan prods at the stitches, frowning. Unlike Deidara's, they'll be removable within a month. Unlike Kakuzu's, they're ugly. Not fair he looks the grizzled veteran he is while Hidan's a rag doll some poor kid inherited from their grandma.

Speaking of, Kakuzu languishes in the desk chair he'd pulled up beside the bed, mask abandoned while he sips some tea. Droplets gather at the edges of his mouth, shining on his lips...

“Gonna share?”

Scowling, Kakuzu nevertheless pours and offers him a cup. “You should be more careful. Next time, I'll leave you there.”

“Says the guy with one heart left,” Hidan scoffs. “If I wanted to, I could kill you right now. Sacrifice you to the god you refuse to believe in.”

“Perhaps I should take yours, then.”

“Thought you didn't want it?”

“Needs must.”

Laughing, Hidan slurps. Noisily. Breathes, now that he finally can.

“Maybe if you'd only grabbed my body, I'd believe you.”

Around his neck are his scorched headband, his unharmed divine symbol. Laid on the bed beside him, the tattered remains of his cloak.

Wordless, Kakuzu refills their tea. Accustomed to his mask, yet stoic without it. Annoying.

Pragmatic to the core, Kakuzu's booked them the cheapest room available. It's small, the desk and double bed the sole furnishings. An adjoining, sliding-door closet opens it up a little, but the kimonos and yukatas within fill it to the brim, offering a variety of colors and sizes. Perhaps he should be grateful there's a bathroom. Hidan snorts.

“You're such a creep. Why's there only one bed?”

“Don't be a child. There's space for both of us.”

Hidan smirks. “Yeah, I bet you'd like that, asshole.”

“I assure you, your virtue will remain intact.”

“The fuck's that supposed to mean-”

_Knock knock_.

They quiet. Hidan reaches for his scythe-

Kakuzu's hand closes around his wrist. _Tight_.

Could be tighter.

“Her chakra's pitiful. Must be a serving girl.”

Crossing to the closet, Kakuzu tosses him a kimono, royal purple patterned with heliotrope swirls. Traditional clothes are hardly his style, but it's better than wandering around in ragged trousers, the shame of his loss plainly visible. Hidan shrugs it on, ties the matching obi.

Another knock sounds at the door, this time timid, uncertain.

"Come in."

The words are an order. Shuffling in, a cart loaded with the food they'd ordered pushed in front, is a slip of a middle-aged woman, deep wrinkles and plentiful gray hairs prematurely aging her.

After shutting the door behind herself, she bows. “Hello, sirs. I am Ayane, and I will be taking care of you during your stay. Thank you for choosing us.”

She looks to Kakuzu first; he waves her aside, vanishing into the bathroom.

When next her gaze lands on Hidan, he offers no direction. Seemingly used to this, Ayane rounds the edge of it, pulling a foldable table and thick cushions out from under the bed. Stomach rumbling, he watches as she serves, leg bouncing. Kakuzu returns as she retreats, wiping his hands on a towel.

“I hope you enjoy. Please let me know if there's anything else.” Another bow. Routine performed, Ayane turns to leave-

“Oh,” she pauses. “Snow started falling an hour ago. It's advised you layer up to go to the baths and to sleep.”

“Sweet,” Hidan mumbles, sliding onto the floor.

He digs in with gusto, paying special attention to the dumplings. Kakuzu joins him hesitantly, but the uncharacteristic shyness is abandoned fast.

“Hey!”

The chopsticks dangle over his side, taunting him. “Don't grab from the platters with your bear hands.”

Nursing his 'hurt' hand, Hidan plays at contrition. “Ah, right. Sorry.”

A few bites later, he-

“Ow!”

“You haven't washed your hands in _days_.”

“Bitch, you left me there that long?”

Kakuzu's brows knit, something like an apology flitting across his face. “I had to lead them off. It was...difficult.”

“It fuckin' better've been. Asshole.”

He goes to snag a piece of sushi he knows to be Kakuzu's favorite, but. There's dirt, discoloring his skin, embedded under his fingernails. His hunger is voracious, the pain cripplingly different from those he inflicts on himself. It can't kill him. It _can_ make him downright miserable, weaken him for months before his body forgets what it once needed.

What he needs now, however, is a _shower_.

Rising to his feet, Hidan stretches, yawns. “Y'know, I think I _am_ gonna get cleaned up. Save some for me, yeah?”

Kakuzu waves his hand, dismissive. Hidan runs his hand through his hair as he passes; it's unfairly soft with the hard times upon them, like cotton fiber. Disappointingly, Kakuzu doesn't react to the contact.

As Hidan slides shut the door between them, however, he erupts into a coughing fit, and that ember of concern he's had to ignore since realizing that bastard's trap flares into a forest fire.

Flinging the door-

“I'm _fine_ , moron. Just do me a favor and try not to drown in there.”

“Tch. Eat a dick, Kakuzu.”

He returns to his task.

Unsurprisingly, the bathroom is quaint. Every required amenity is present, but there's barely room to breathe, much less stand comfortably while tending to the number of hygienic needs. He's a fairly average-sized man, and besides a side-step to the left the only place to go is back through where he'd come in.

As he's sulking, his eyes catch and hold on a spot of color in the otherwise blank, white void. Something blue is buried in the trash can, identity hidden by the tissue paper covering it.

Curious, Hidan crouches over the can, grimacing as the movement pulls on his stitches. He quickly shifts to sitting on his bottom.

What he finds are flowers, blood-speckled.

“The hell?”

“I'm going to the baths,” Kakuzu calls. Before Hidan can comment, he hears the slam of the front door.

Sighing, Hidan abandons his find and hops in the shower stall.

* * *

Ayane blinks.

Hidan blinks back, caught off guard by her sudden intrusion. Also, naked.

Seeming to've finally realized this, Ayane averts her gaze. “Apologies, sir.”

Redressing in his kimono, Hidan examines her. Not his usual fair, but all souls belong to God. Her laborious lifestyle may make her a prime target for conversion, in fact.

Before he can launch his spiel, he notices where her attention has shifted. The flowers.

“I'm sorry,” she says.

“Huh?”

“Hanahaki is so rare nowadays, with so many ways to die and so few capable of opening their hearts. It shouldn't sadden me; my own brother succumbed to it, but...I fear how worse the world can become, with so little love.”

“I think you're mistaken, lady.”

“Ah.” She flushes, jaw strangely clenched. “Then I must apologize again, sir. Excuse me.”

Somehow, Hidan doubts she's begging pardon over their misunderstanding.

“Wait-”

“Hm?”

“What's that you were talking about? Hanahaki?”

Her eyes dart between his face and the exit, undecided. A short flare of his chakra, though, and he has her undivided attention.

“Hanahaki disease is a fatal illness that befalls those suffering unrequited love.”

Hidan can't help it. He laughs in her face.

“They cough up flowers.”

He stops. Time stops. The sun and moon and stars, wherever the fuck they are up in the sky, stop.

“These flowers represent their bond with who they've fallen for, or the person themself. Blue hyacinths mean constancy, playfulness, and extreme rashness.”

“O-oh. And you said it'll kill him?”

“Unless his someone confesses in time, yes.”

“How do you know when it's too late?”

Ayane's eyes drift to the hyacinths. “Don't worry. In later stages, soft tissue comes up with them.”

She leaves.

“Constancy, playfulness, and extreme rashness,” Hidan whispers to himself. The first rules out Deidara and Zetsu, the latter two Sasori, Konan, and Itachi. Their leader is out of the question—they don't interact often enough. Orochimaru is possible with Kakuzu's extra lives, but surely Hidan would've seen some evidence of his affliction before today; it can't be a years-old thing. Who does that leave?

Kisame.

“Wait, _is_ Kisame super rash? He's a little twitchy sometimes, but he's not...”

Well.

_Him_. Hidan.

“That son of a bitch.”

How _fucking dare he_ hide this? Hell, why _would_ he? Hidan's been flirting with him since day one...

Granted, most of said flirting's been taunts and heavy eye contact, but it counts! Kakuzu's an above-capable analyst.

Of course, Kakuzu's also a grumpy old man allergic to emotions that aren't some form of anger or greed, so perhaps Hidan shouldn't expect him to care about needing to hunt down an extra heart every now and again. Could be he doesn't actually want Hidan, despite the disease taking hold.

Regardless, Hidan sweeps from the room to confront him.

Stepping outside into a gust of icy wind, Hidan shivers, tugging the thin kimono tighter around himself. Clothes with thicker layers are two doors and a short corridor away, but he presses on, impatient.

Thankfully, a row of sandals are provided on the porch, so he won't have to trudge through the snow barefoot. Said snow continues to fall, blanketing the earth and smothering the decorative greenery into a sea of white reminiscent of the bathroom he'd spent the last hour in. Figures.

Slipping into the hot springs, though, it's hard not to appreciate the chill of the wintry air, or how, from this angle, with the black and gray stones, and the darkly-wooded complex and fences, the fluffy, colorless snow grows rapidly more appealing. The positive counterpart to his earlier comparison.

Spiteful, Hidan tries anyway.

Kakuzu's wearing his mask. Hidan rips it off-

His hand's caught in Kakuzu's, again. This time, he returns the touch, his grip more of a gentle caress.

“What are you playing at, Hidan?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just finally figured out you're hopelessly in love with me.”

Glaring, Kakuzu snarls, “It's not. _A fucking joke._ ”

“You're telling me? You're on your last heart, asshole! Fuckin' tell it to yourself, man!”

Kakuzu bats his hand away, moving to leave, and Hidan lets him—until there's enough space between partner and bench for him to steal the seat, grabbing Kakuzu by the hips and pulling him into his lap, arms wrapped around his midsection in a steel cage. Shocked, Kakuzu allows all of this. Pinned by his own handiwork, without leverage, Hidan supported by the bath's structure, his options are limited, and none of them maintain their illusion of anonymity within Fire Country.

Sure, they could leave, take shelter in their safe house in nearby Rain 'til they're sufficiently well-recovered for vengeance, but where's the fun in that?

“I'll ask you one more time: _what_ are you _playing at_ , Hidan?”

“Snuggling, 'cause I love you and all.”

Kakuzu stiffens. “Really, now.”

Hidan pouts. “So that's why you're hiding it? You don't believe me?”

“What's to hide?” Kakuzu scoffs. “Damned things bloomed in my chest after I withdrew from the Konoha brats.”

“Ahhh, that connects, but you didn't answer my question, asshole.”

“It's fucking ridiculous.”

“Such are the lives of immortals,” Hidan snickers. Somehow, his entire mood's switched around. He feels like floating, a feeling he normally associates with killing.

“There's no such thing.”

“Heathen.”

Kakuzu huffs. A beat of silence passes.

“You truly love me?”

“Yeah, 'Kuzu, you're a dick, but you're super strong and smart and shit.”

“Eloquent.”

Threaded through his usual annoyance is familiar fondness, and finally that tangle of worry sat in his chest dissolves. Instead, anticipation thrums in his veins. This picture-perfect moment of them sat together, Hidan no longer restraining, Kakuzu no longer flinching away, it's nice. Wonderful. But Hidan will always look to the future, to _more_ , and they've a room and bed entirely to themselves for the next week, no superiors peering over their shoulders, interrupting their excursions.

Still, he rests. Enjoys it. They have forever.


End file.
